


First Times and Last Words

by StoriesFromDust



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesFromDust/pseuds/StoriesFromDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Augustine Sycamore confronts Lysandre about his plans right before the ultimate weapon fires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Times and Last Words

**Author's Note:**

> This short fic was created for [miss-sleepy-head](http://miss-sleepy-head.tumblr.com/)  
> And is accompanied by [](http://33.media.tumblr.com/06c209df936eb0490d87558b1805ef7b/tumblr_mye8ntdWiy1t0f5y4o4_500.png>%20This%20Illustration%20</a>)

“Were you always planning this?" Augustine choked out around his rage and desperation, his fists clenched at the edges of Lysandre’s jacket, pushing him with all of his strength into a desk. He knew the answer before he even asked. Lysandre looked upon him as he felt his heart fracture, his first true heartbreak. The damage sent shards of their life tearing through his body, rending muscle and bone as they passed.

-

Lysandre had been there when Augustine had his first beer, in college. He had sneered and said “Never? Not one drink? You’re a child. EIt was bitter, the words and the beer both. He drank it only to show Lys that he was an adult. It was the desperate plea of an upperclassman for respect from the freshman before him. He had one drink, and another, and another, matching Lysandre’s pace and failing to match his composure. Augustine had acted drunker than he felt, because each time he stumbled Lysandre purred back at him; “You’re a beautiful drunk." 

Only hours later Lysandre had been there when Augustine had his first kiss, his first real one anyway. His first passionate fumble against another warm body, heedless of consequences or propriety. Every false kiss before then was just mechanical, thoughtful, tense, dry. This was the first where he had fallen against another soul with every part of himself and felt that heat and passion returned. Augustine was flushed from the snide compliments, begging at the source for more and kissing again and again before Lysandre could complete any. “You have to let me finish--" Lysandre complained, but Augustine had already pushed against him again.

Lysandre hadn’t started their first fight, but he escalated it out of control. When he found out that Augustine had signed up for graduate studies in Sinnoh, without telling him, he had flown into a rage. Augustine was sure that the whole campus could hear them yelling. He hadn’t wanted to keep it from Lysandre, but telling him that he would have to spend his senior year alone? It was gut wrenching. Before Augustine knew what to do it was already too late. Lysandre was fighting tears and roaring, “You just expect me to do this long-distance? You can forget it. Fuck you." And stormed out of the dorm, leaving Augustine in a daze while he finished packing. He had flown out the next morning without a word from Lysandre.

Augustine’s first Friday in Sinnoh was celebrated with a haze of tears and a drunk text; ‘Lys, I miss you.' Lysandre had texted back after a few minutes, ‘I miss you too. Come home.' They never called one another, but every week one would text the other. Augustine would send Lysandre excited notes on his work, complain about his classes, and gush about his professors. Lysandre would send sweet compliments nested between comments on other men he was spending time with. He never said he was seeing them, but he never denied it. Augustine chose to ignore these comments, it wasn’t his concern, they had broken up. Although, sometimes he would make sure his hair was perfect and take a picture of himself in various states of undress just to make sure Lysandre’s next message was about him.

When Augustine returned to Kalos it was with his first job, assistant researcher at Lumiose College. He met with old friends to celebrate, but spent the evening sneaking glances at Lysandre drinking in the corner, alone. They hadn’t spoken in such a long time and Augustine was not sure how to bridge the gap between them, but he tried regardless with a shot of whiskey for courage. Lysandre had changed into a broad-shouldered and serious man, dressed to the nines. At the time he thought it was a show of respect to Augustine’s job, but learned later that Lysandre rarely ever looked anything less than sharp. They reminisced through a veil of regret before the conversation died. Augustine wanted so badly for there to be something here worth saving, but he couldn’t find the words.After a few minutes of silence Lysandre stood and sadly muttered “If you’d stayed in Kalos, you’d be making twice as much at my company," before tossing back the rest of his drink and forcing his way through the crowd to leave.

Though the faint strings of the grudge held, Lysandre had still been there when Augustine first discovered Mega Evolution. It was a wild celebration among the students and staff alike. Augustine was walking on air all night, he was sure to be promoted to professor for this. It was everything he had wanted, and sacrificed for. His career had been paramount for his lifetime, and here it was coming to fruition. Arceus be damned if he wasn’t going to make his life perfect. Sometime after two in the morning he had pushed Lysandre into a wall, and Lysandre had let himself be pushed. Augustine blushed deeply as he strained on the tips of his toes to reach the taller man. In the end Augustine dragged him to a bed where they were more evenly matched.

Augustine wasn’t ever sure what they were after that. They weren’t together, but they weren’t ever far from one another either. They were each satellites to their careers, consumed with their own affairs until such a time as their work let them loose upon one another.

-

Those times were over now, broken by this horrible black feeling; Rage and betrayal straining against a paper thin hope. He wanted Lysandre to pick the bits of his trust out from his flesh like fish bones. He wanted Lysandre to deny it and fix everything that had gone wrong. He wanted an apology. He wanted to be held.

Lysandre’s lips curled back into a sneer, a challenge, an admission. His voice matched the intensity of the weapon powering to life less than a mile from them. A low, dangerous rumble. “So what if I was?" 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
